King's Cross
by OspreyEmblem
Summary: What if Harry had made a different decision at King's Cross Station?
1. Chapter 1

_The realization of what would happen next settled gradually over Harry in the long minutes, like softly falling snow._

_ "I've got to go back, haven't I?"_

_ "That is up to you."_

_ "I've got a choice?"_

_ "Oh yes." Dumbledore smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to…let's say…board a train."_

_ "And where would it take me?"-_Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Dumbledore sat in silence for a few moments just looking at Harry. "Perhaps," he began almost hesitantly, "it would be best to board and find out."

Harry considered this for a moment. "Would I die?" he said, not entirely opposed to the idea.

"No," Dumbledore replied, "I think it would be more difficult than that. A solution to the many mistakes we, mostly I, have made concerning this whole charade, if you will."

Harry sat quietly for a bit longer, thinking about everything that he had done wrong. Everything that could be changed for the better. He looked up after a while and saw that a train had pulled up to the platform in front of him. _Perhaps, _he thought, _the decision was made for me a long time ago. _

Without another word, Harry stood up, shook Dumbledore's hand, and walked silently to the train. As he boarded, he looked back at Dumbledore, and saw a proud, yet terribly sad smile stretch across his mentor's face. Raising his hand in farewell, Harry stepped into the car, and felt the train begin to move. The bright mist was descending again, obscuring Harry's vision, and with a final lurch, he was on his way.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter was snoring loudly. With a jerk, he woke abruptly to find he had been sleeping pressed up against a window, with a crumpled letter in his fist. He sat for a moment, getting his bearings, when everything came rushing back. The battle. The forest. King's Cross. _The train…_ With that thought jumped up, and looked at the paper in his hand. _Dear Harry, If it is convenient to you, I shall call at number four, Privet Drive this coming Friday at eleven P.M…. _

This was the summer before his sixth year! Dumbledore, alive, was coming to pick him up! And take him to the Burrow! He glanced at the clock on his bedside table, and cursed his own stupidity for the second time. It was twenty minutes to eleven, and of course Dumbledore was really coming! Now he had to pack…

Quickly tossing things into his trunk, he shoved all the rubbish he had collected whilst stewing in his misery that summer into the corner. Just as he was pulling his trunk and cage out the doorway to his room, he saw the streetlamp outside his window flicker out. _Shit, _he thought. Taking the stairs two at a time, he got to the bottom just as the doorbell rang. He sent a nervous glance in the direction of the sitting room where his relatives were watching television, and pulled open the door.

There on his front stoop, as alive and well as a hundred-and-fourteen year old man could be, stood his dearly departed professor and mentor. Harry stood still for a moment, just taking in the sight of him, before a silly grin spread across his face.

"Sir," said Harry, still grinning, "You don't know how good it is to see you."


	3. Chapter 3

"Sir," said Harry, still grinning, "You don't know how good it is to see you." Pulling open the door wider, he said, "Please come in. Would you like some tea? Or brandy?" Dumbledore stepped inside, and Harry shut the door behind him.

"Tea would be lovely Harry," he said, looking bemusedly at the eager young boy in front of him. "It's been a long journey."

Before Harry could move, Vernon and Petunia Dursley emerged from the sitting room, griping about the late hour and the nerve of some people. They stopped dead when they saw this tall figure, so obviously a wizard, who radiated power and practically screamed, _NOT NORMAL! _

Stepping up behind his professor, he whispered into his ear, "Please sir, don't be too hard on them. Petunia was jealous, and Vernon was scared."

Giving Dumbledore space to think about that for a moment, he looked at the 'family' he'd had for the past six years, and, trying to defuse some of the tension, said, "Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, I know you don't like anything to do with magic, but as soon as we are finished here, we'll both be gone, and you won't have to see either of us until next year, so please just don't freak out. This is the headmaster of my school, Professor Albus Dumbledore, and he is here to pick me up. Before he can do so, I daresay there are some things we will need to talk about."

Everyone stood in stunned silence for a moment at this little speech, until Dumbledore snapped out of it and said, "Quite right, my boy, now shall we proceed to the sitting room?" They did so, Harry dragging his Aunt and Uncle behind him, and settled on the chairs in there. Harry pushed his family down onto the couch, where they sat silently, glaring at Dumbledore and staring at Harry.

Before they could begin, Dudley tromped down the stairs, calling, "Mum! Who was at the door?" He stopped when he caught sight of the sitting room and the robust wizard dominating the scene.

Once again the voice of reason, Harry proclaimed, "Dudley! It's good to see you. This is my headmaster from school, Albus Dumbledore, and he needs to speak with us about a few things. Come in! Sit down! I promise he won't hurt you." Slowly coaxing his cousin into the room, Harry guided Dudley to the couch and sat him between his parents. Seating himself once again, he looked expectantly towards Dumbledore who was giving him a calculating look.

Taking the cue, Dumbledore began, "Well! Firstly, I must say how pleasant it is to see you all again. The first order of business we must cover before we leave is concerning Sirius' will. He left you everything he owned, along with Grimmauld Place. The Order has, for a time, vacated the building, as we are not sure of the true ownership. We fear the house may have automatically passed into the possession of the next black in line, who would be Bellatrix Lestrange, his cousin."

While Dumbledore paused to give him a moment to absorb this, Harry said, "I can assure you, Headmaster, that Grimmauld Place is firmly in my possession. Sirius went through all of the proper channels to make sure of that. If you wish to make sure, you may call Kreacher to us, and I will ask him." While Dumbledore gave him a wide eyed stare of incomprehension, Harry's relatives, who had been thus far quiet, decided to speak up.

"Your godfather's dead? That Sirius Black?" said Uncle Vernon, staring greedily at Harry. "And he left you a house?"

Harry smirked and said, "Oh, why yes. He was murdered this past school year in the basement of our government headquarters by a madwoman during an epic battle. Didn't you know we were in a war?"


	4. Chapter 4

Uncle Vernon paled and stuttered, "W-war? You mean the freaks are fighting amongst themselves?"

Still smirking, Harry replied, "Indeed. War. And it's not only the freaks. This could wipe out life as we know it, especially for you _normal_ people. There is a very powerful dark wizard who is bent on destroying all non-pure blood in the world, and the only blood he considers worthy is pure wizard blood. I happen to be the only one who can destroy him, and _you_ happen to be muggles, my family, and the ones who have been abusing and neglecting me since I came into your home. How's that? Jealousy and fear have put your lives in danger, and it is entirely your own faults." Harry turned to his aunt, who was frozen in fear. "Petunia, what would my mother say? She loved you, and she wanted to include you in our world. If you had been kind to us, we would have included you, showed you all the great things there were. Dudley, I know it wasn't your fault; you were just following the example set out for you. And Vernon…When someone is more powerful than you, it is not wise to be rude and lock them away, because someday it will come back to bite you in the arse. That is not today, but you will regret it eventually."

Harry looked to Dumbledore, who was staring at him with a mix of shock and apprehension. "Ah yes, sorry about that, I'm a bit bitter, and we both know I'm a Slytherin at heart. Now, Buckbeak shall go to Hagrid, and I will call Kreacher and order him to work in the Hogwarts kitchens. Now may we go? I am quite ready to put this behind us. See you next year!" This last bit he called to his relatives as he walked to the hallway to gather his trunk.

Looking back to the sitting room where everyone was still sitting and staring at him, Harry said, "Well, aren't you coming? We have a Burrow to get to!" At this, Dumbledore rose gracefully and walked up to Harry.

"I must say," he began, "that was a quite impressive speech. More impressive than the one I had planned, indeed." He flicked his wand to Harry's things, and they disappeared. "Let us go, then, Harry. We should walk to the end of the street to Apparate. We have one stop to make first, however. I must speak with a colleague of mine about a position we have open this year."

Taking hold of Dumbledore's arm, Harry prepared for the suffocating sensation of apparation. Twisting into nothingness, Harry held tightly to Dumbledore's arm, and then stepped gracefully ahead of him when the ground was once again firmly beneath his feet. "Thank you sir," said Harry, walking towards the intended destination without one glance back. "I can't wait until I can do that myself. Should come in handy."

Without making sure Dumbledore was behind him, Harry stepped through the door to the muggle house he had come up to. Not sparing the trashed room a single thought, he picked his way toward the armchair that was tipped over in the corner. Poking it with his wand, he announced cheerfully, "Professor Slughorn! It's so good to meet you. I've heard great things, you know."

Allowing the man to get to his feet, for the armchair was now a man, Harry turned to where Dumbledore was standing rooted to the doorway. "Harry…," Dumbledore began, "we should really talk after this. Curious, indeed…"

Turning his back on the other man again, Harry stuck his hand out towards the rotund man standing bemused in his pyjamas. "Hello Professor Slughorn. I'm Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Slughorn grasped his hand, eyes flicking up to Harry's forehead, and said quietly, "Harry Potter. What a pleasure. How did you know? And so quickly? Ah, but it doesn't matter. What brings you here my boy? And Albus? However did you find me? I told you I said no!" By the end of this little monologue, Slughorn was practically shouting, face growing redder. Harry backed up quickly, knowing first hand that the best way to calm an angry person who was bigger than you was to get out of the way.

Staying out of Slughorn's path to Dumbledore, Harry spoke slowly and reassuringly, "Sir. Please control yourself. I come here of my own free will, the Headmaster was just escorting me. I knew it was you because of certain reasons I would rather not disclose at the moment, or at all. Rest assured, it applies solely to me and no one should be able to bother you as I have. I come here to implore you to take over the potions class at my school. We need your expertise, sir, and I know you are the only one who can help us. Please just listen to me, first.

"I know you taught my mother, professor, and I know you taught many others. I know your greatest shame. I know you know what I am talking about. I also know you may not believe me, or want to believe me. If it means anything, sir, you couldn't have changed anything. He already knew about what he asked you about, and he did it anyways, despite warnings. In fact, at that point, he had already begun. It is what Professor Dumbledore feared. But no one can blame you. I, who have been more affected by Tom Marvolo Riddle than anyone, cannot and do not blame you. You are a good person, Professor. It's not your fault."

Harry watched as Slughorn's red face grew steadily paler and slightly green, and then flushed. At last, when Harry absolved him of his supposed guilt, Slughorn sank to his knees and shuddered, as though holding back sobs. Harry patted him on the back, and then turned to face Dumbledore again. The professor was sitting relaxed in a conjured armchair, eyes closed, breathing slow. Harry drank in this peculiar sight, until Dumbledore opened his eyes and stared straight at Harry. Slowly getting up, he crossed the room until he was standing right in front of Harry.

"My dear boy, I believe we need to have a talk."

"Professor, with all due respect, now is definitely not the time."

* * *

_A/N: That's all for what I had prewritten. I wrote this quite some time ago and uploaded it on a whim, so I'm not sure what there'll be after this. I have a timeline laid out, and I'll be making longer chapters. I don't know when or how often the chapters will be uploaded, though._


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